Incriminating Evidence
by drowning goldfish
Summary: COMPLETE. James Potter has a journal. It has nothing to do with Lily Evans. He has much more important things to write about. And if you believe that, I have twenty completely indestructable cauldrons to sell you.
1. chapter 1

**AN: **hola readers who have never heard of me and readers who are upset I'm starting a new j/l ficlet without finishing bc (yet!). this is just to say that this:  
**…** means change in pov, which will either be James or Narrator; and that this fic is going to be smutty. Smutty I say! Because this is a male teenager's journal and I wouldn't want _that_ to be out of character. Please keep in mind that this is under humor as well. It is not meant to be a serious fic so don't read it that way otherwise it will vastly affect your enjoyment. This should be about 2-4 chapters long.

**…**

_Some_ people have _yet_ to grasp the fact –even after seven years of exposure mind you—that what I say and what I mean are completely different things. For example:

I am James Harold Potter III, a very wealthy and promising young wizard of the age.  
(Read: My name is James.)

I hate Lily Evans.  
(Read: I love Lily Evans.)

Lily Evans is an unattractive, haughty, stubborn, malicious, stuck-up prudish bore who is so far beyond my contempt that I can only look at her in pity from a state of grace.  
(Read: And I'm not very good at hiding it.)

For some reason, the dense cow (brilliant and painfully attractive mirage of my longing) does not grasp this simple concept. Alas, there could not be a man alive who could look at the stunning picture of deplorable human waste she makes and see fit to call her his wife (I hope anyway, so at least I'll have a sporting chance at it).

In all fairness, perhaps there does lie some ineptness in my failure to explain to her that what I decide upon saying in my mind and what is actually released from my lips are two very separate things. It is not my fault my mouth has a mind of its own. It is a curse really, but a cross I faithfully bare. (I really, really, really wish she would just smile at me like she does when she gets a charm right for the first time. I'd die happy if she did.)

And thus, this journal is born. To tell the whole truth about why my relationship with the shrew (deepest desire of my heart) is much more tumultuous than would otherwise be necessary.

**September 21**

What I was thinking (T): That was incredible Lily. Your wand work in Transfiguration has been masterful since you've been taking those extra lessons to improve your technique.

What I said (S): Hey Evans, not bad. You were the second person after me to manage that spell. That Ravenclaw wanker you were taking extra lessons with owes me ten galleons: I knew you were good at more than just broom-cupboard action.

What Lily replied with (L) in a deadly calm voice: That's funny Potter, I don't recall hearing any boasts about you other than your detention record. Tell me, does it make you feel good about yourself pretending everyone is the dirt beneath your feet? Or does it just make you a lonely insecure twat?

Why must she be so vindictively cruel? I wonder if she meant it when she said that was the only thing she heard when people were talking about me. I wish she heard that I was smart and funny and handsome instead. I wish she believed it. I wish Lily Evans, for just one second could look at me and feel as deeply and passionately the desire I feel for her. Maybe then she'd look back when she walks away to make sure I'm watching her go and silently begging her to stop.

In my best defense, at least my lips don't feel the need to undermined my thoughts the rest of the time with anyone else, and thus I have become generally congenial, or at the very least cordial with everyone I know (unless provoked by slimy gits), but I think it's hard for Lily to see this.

**September 31**

Dreamt of Lily again last night. The dreams are getting worse, and my inability to control them is manifesting itself in my particularly nasty verbal exchanges with Lily. Most boys my age don't have dreams like this. They don't wake up in the middle of the night, hard as a rock, gripping their headboard tight with their hands and trying to think about anything other than what it would feel like to go down on a girl.

Sirius dreams about girls going down on him and other forms of submission by the opposite sex. I know because he tells us loudly in the morning about the great dreams he had. We all listen, pretending to be disgusted, but of course intensely interested as we have no idea what to do with a girl and all of our knowledge comes directly from these loud admissions. Not that he's ever actually done anything like this. He found several books when he was a kid in his family library, and after getting past the fact that his parents had probably read them as well, he memorized every word.

It wouldn't be so hard if she wasn't so beautiful and if she didn't call out my name like she needed me. Those are the hardest parts to forget.

**October 3**

Did my first official rounds tonight. The others don't count as I used the opportunity to sit at the end of the dungeon hall where the Slytherin common room is located and do homework I was behind on. Tonight counted because I actually did the rounds. I was very diligent and fair too. And not just because Lily Evans was with me in circuit and it was an excuse to show off how diligent and fair I can be. Though it was a plus.

I mostly tried not to open my mouth too much. It worked rather well. I asked her questions about her summer, about classes, about her future plans, anything to keep her talking so I wouldn't screw it up. I was glad she didn't try to turn the questions back at me. It isn't because she's impolite (Lily says 'bless you' when Slytherins sneeze); it was because she was too shocked that I genuinely cared.

Okay, so the conversation was rather boring, but it was like getting lectured about a topic you have a degree in. She's wanted to be an Auror since she first read about them in fifth year during our career planning sessions. She loves being at home now that her evil sister is married off to some bland life. She hates History and loves Charms.

This stuff was remedial as far as my vast knowledge was concerned, but I think she would have found it rather odd if I asked her if she got to move into Petunia's old room as it was bigger and overlooking the flowers Lily cared for during holiday now that she was gone. She definitely would have hexed me if I asked the question that had been plaguing me all summer which was whether or not she's sensitive behind her knees.

When she said 'good night' she did it with the quirky little smile on her face. It's the one she gets when she tries new food, expecting to hate it, and being quite surprised by how much she enjoyed it.

If only my mouth hadn't opened. If only I hadn't ruined everything. If only I had asked the question about the backs of her knees instead. I had thought 'good night, Lily. Thanks for keeping me company. I had a nice time talking with you. If you wouldn't mind, maybe we can do it again during the next patrol. I'd love to talk to you more about your plans for Aurorship as I'm interested in the field as well and I'd love to hear your thoughts on the new policies implemented this year about wizard-muggle relations.'

And because that sounds relatively nice, what came out of my mouth was anything but. I think it ran along the lines of: 'Finally! That was worse than Binns. At least I know I'll get some sleep tonight – I've never been so bored in my life! If only they had given the Head Girl position to someone who deserved it, maybe these patrol duties wouldn't be such a burden!'

I am the biggest prat in the entire world and I would highly doubt if Lily Evans ever speaks to me again.

**October 4**

She wouldn't look at me once. It was incredible. Not even in my general direction. Simultaneously, all of her friends tried to telepathically send threats of torture and though normally I think it's a load of rubbish I'm rather sure I'm a converted believer. I could practically feel the manner in which they wanted to castrate me before tattooing 'I am a horrible dirty wanker' in large black letters all over my body.

I wish there was some way I could take back every horrible thing I've ever said to her. Without causing serious brain trauma from the memory charm. Not that I've thought about it. Extensively anyway.

There's just something about her. I look at her, and then…I don't know. She's so perfect and I know I'll never be good enough, no matter how smart or athletic or charming, and then I think, I'd rather she hate me because she thinks I'm a prat, than have her look at me and really see who I am, and still decide to hate me. It's okay if she hates me this way, because at least this way, I can tell myself that she doesn't know who I really am. I'm rambling. Because I'm an idiot. Who'd give anything if she'd just look at me again.

**October 5**

Still didn't look at me.

**October 6**

Sirius said she accidentally glanced in my direction in transfiguration when she mastered the spell, but I think he's lying to make me feel better. Her technique was incredible. Her tiny wrists are so fluid and graceful. The way she holds her wand, it's like an extension of her arm. I hate that Ravenclaw wanker who gives her lessons. She doesn't needs lessons. She just needs someone to give her confidence about what she's doing so she doesn't over think things.

**October 7**

Nothing.

**October 8**

Still nothing. Other than a daydream in Binns' class which involved Lily, the Head's bathroom, and lots of bubbles.

**October 9**

Could no longer stand it. Lit off a Zonko's wet-start firework in that wanker Ravenclaw's cauldron in Potions when no one was looking. The engorging potion made his nose grow to the size of Italy. (Personally I thought it was an improvement.) I cleaned up the mess and fixed his face (with much inner struggle), earning twenty house points for my helpful behavior towards a student in another house. Others should take after my example.

I turned to watch her face as the professor gave her small lecture and the Wanker shook my hand in thanks. She glared darkly, rose her nose in the air, and turned huffily away. I smiled. At least she was looking at me again.

**October 14**

Full moons seem to be the only thing that gets Lily off my mind completely. Three nights and sometimes days too of total freedom to just be myself with my brothers, away from the world.

I will admit that things have been more…domesticated, for lack of a better word, since the incident at the end of sixth year. We definitely have given up our brawls with the beasties in the forest and we no longer feel the need to explore dark caves and groves. Though reading this back, it sounds immature, these little excursions have led to some of my favorite memories, not to mention some of our best discoveries, like the little amulet I want to give to Lily one day, though not for the vindictive purposes I once did. I—

**…**

"Prongs come on! You can finish writing in your little Evans diary later!" Sirius called.

"Oi! We've been over this Sirius! It's a journal and it's not about Evans! I _do_ have other things going on in my life than just her!"

"Well than act like it and let's go! Moony will be transforming soon and I want to be with him when he does!"

"Alright! I'm coming!" James stashed his book away before grabbing his Invisibility Cloak and racing to meet up with Sirius and Peter.


	2. chapter 2

**October 31**

As per usual, a Halloween prank was engineered, much milder than usual though. The heavy rain outside was reflected in the ceiling…until it turned into tiny confetti of black bats that fell across the tables in a downpour. Most tried to flee from the Great Hall, only to find this strange storm was consistent throughout the castle. Some of us ingenious parties transfigured umbrellas and casually strolled around. Then the real mayhem began. Different confetti was covered with different potions, each in a random assortment. Some had singing serums and several people began belting out everything from opera to the Weird Sisters. Other potions ranged from voice changing potions, hair coloring and costume changes to dancing with the first person they saw. Mayhem ensued until the storm had passed.

In the common room that night, she cornered me. I went to grab a set of exploding snap from my room and she pounced.

What Lily said (L): I know it was you four this evening, and I have the evidence to prove it.

What I thought (T): I do not know to what you are referring.

What I said (S): What evidence?

She arched an eyebrow. Oops.

L: I want to know why you did it.

T in sarcastic tone: Ah yes, let me just incriminate myself further.

S: Okay, it was tradition.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

L: I know you do a Halloween prank every year. What I mean is that I want to know why this year…people came out of one of your pranks relatively unscathed.

T: Excuse me?

S: Huh?

L: In the past, you've had the pumpkin juice transformed into volatile slime and anyone who accidentally drank it was covered in boils for a week. This, in comparison, was relatively harmless…almost amusing really. I had no idea McGonagall had such a good singing voice.

This was said with a smile. Lily Evans was smiling at me. She thought something I did was amusing. This meant she thought I had good qualities, worthwhile ones, and everyone likes to hang around with good, worthwhile people. Maybe I had a chance after all! We'd be snogging during our patrols and I'd find out if she was sensitive behind her knees in no time!

S: Don't flatter yourself into thinking it's because I hold you or my Head Boy position in any regard other than contempt, Evans. Remus had a stint in the hospital wing recently and we didn't have enough time to plan anything that would have made us proud.

L: I wondered why he wasn't in class, but I thought I heard he was visiting his sick Aunt. He is better now, isn't he?

T: Oh my holy harpy, she knows about Remus. Quick mouth: distract her!

S: Fine, stay out of it. So what's the punishment then? Twenty points? Detention? Writing lines? Tutoring first years? Or something of a challenge, like an excursion into the Forest for some centaur hair? Do your worst Evans.

L, glaring and voice getting shrill: I wasn't going to punish you at all. I just…

T: Weren't going to punish us? But you're Head Girl. You shouldn't compromise what you believe in simply because we could have done worse, but have finally grown up a bit.

S, in grinning, cocky tone: Blackmail? Sexy Evans. I like a girl who thinks she has control in a situation.

L: You are impossible! I came over here to—to _thank_ you of all things for your discretion this evening, and all you can do is insult and taunt me! You really are a horrible person. I don't know why I always think there has to be something about you that isn't so bad, but every time I try to find it, you just go and prove me wrong!

T: No! No! I'm sorry! I do have good qualities! Thank _you_! You're wonderful and perfect and I'm a horrible idiot and I'm sorry! Please don't give up on me! Please don't walk away! Not again…

S: Bit slow on the uptake, aren't you?

I don't deserve Lily Evans. I don't know why I ever thought I did. She turned and ran up to her dorm, and there were tears in her eyes. Why? I have no idea. After seven years of torture like this, she's never cried. She's gotten angry, she's gotten even, but she's never cried. Which means something's different this time. This time, no matter what I do, she's not going to forget and forgive until I do something else stupid.

**…**

Lily Evans ran up to her room, flung herself unto her bed, and tearing the curtains closed began to bawls her pretty eyes out. It was not long before the other girls in her dorm began to call softly through the hangings if she was all right, and inquiring what that Potter Prat had done now. As if that was the only thing that could make her so upset. She hated the fact that he was. Lily did not have the heart to reply.

It wasn't long before they left her in peace and went to bed themselves. Lily crawled under her covers, and from beneath her mattress she pulled out the tiny picture that no single soul knew she possessed. It was the only thing she had ever stolen in her entire life. She ran her fingers over the picture, leaving even more fingerprints than those that already covered it.

James (flying on his broomstick, winding rushing through his hair, his eyes beaming and his mouth curved into laughter) rushed to the front of the frame as he always did when he realized she was looking at him. His hazel eyes sparkled at her and he gave her the biggest smile and kindest expression she had even seen.

"Why can't you be like this always?" she whispered to the dark, tracing his fingers over his features. "Why do I have to like you so much?"

**…**

**November 17**

First Quidditch match. Won 410-20 against Ravenclaw. Do not want to admit that this brutality might be a result of the fact rumors have been spreading about the Wanker asking _her_ out. Have avoided _her_ at all costs and have heartily thrown myself into being a slave driver for my team. They all hate me now too. Not to mention my friends. I'd be polite and find some deep dank whole to go quietly die in, but I'm too depressed and lack the necessary energy.

I holed myself in the dorm in the dark and after having to listen to the sounds of the celebrating below for several minutes, I got frustrated and cast a silencing charm on the room.

Which is why I did not hear _her_ enter.

L: You played a good game today.

I wish I could say I gracefully sat up from my attractively splayed position to calmly greet her, but I can't. I was lying down backwards with my head thrown over one side and my leg over another. She scared the holy harpy out of me, and I scrambled for my wand and glasses, the blood rushing to my head, making me dizzy and the room spin.

I fumbled them both and she giggled softly, before coming over. Her blurred form dropped in front of me, before righting herself, and her soft smooth fingers brushed my red hot cheeks as she slid my glasses on my face and her beautiful eyes fell into focus.

T: What are you doing in here?

S: What are you doing in here?

T: What the? Did I just _say_ what I _thought_ I said?

L: I just wanted to tell you that you played a good game today.

T in scathing tone: Shouldn't you be consoling your boyfriend?

S: Thanks.

Long, awkward pause.

L: I should get back before someone starts looking for me.

T: I doubt they'd ever think of looking for you here.

S: Yeah.

L: Are you going to come down at all?

T: Huh?

S: Do you want me to?

L: Your friends look miserable down there without you. The party just isn't the same, you know.

S: Oh.

T: Sorry. I want to lay up here and sulk.

S: I might be down in a bit…if you're still there.

L blushed. L said: I guess I'll wait for a bit then.

L turned and left. I did not go down. I wrote this. Tonight was very very very strange.

I did not know love could hurt this much.

**…**

Lily went back down to the common room and went to grab one of the last butterbeers. The party seemed to be breaking up a bit. It had gotten late. She did not realize she had spent so much time outside James's door debating whether or not to go in.

"Lily, I've been looking all over for you. Where did you go? Don't tell me you snuck out to go see that Ravenclaw boyfriend of yours!"

"No, and for the last time, he's not my boyfriend."

"I still can't believe you turned him down. You have no sense in that brilliant head of yours. You know you like him, and I'm sure if you told him he'd still be willing."

Lily glared and did not respond.

"Where _did_ you go then?"

"Up to see James to congratulate him on the game."

"That prat? Honestly, I don't know why you even try."

"He said he might come down in a bit."

"Oh, _great_. Well let's head up to bed then."

"I think I'm going to wait."

"Suit yourself, but don't come crying to me if that prat sticks his foot in his mouth again."

Lily glared. "I won't. Good night."

"'Night."

Lily waited. He didn't show. She sighed as she finally left for bed. Love, she was sure, wasn't suppose to hurt this much.

**…**

**An:** So I've never seen a fic where Lily knows she likes James and her friends don't think she does, so I'm going from that angle. Hopefully that was clear. If it wasn't, oh well.

I've loved all my reviews! Thank you! **Cookies to everyone whose reviewed**!


	3. chapter 3

**November 30**

Have properly avoided at all costs _her._ Am not sure why. Rather sure she is not still angry with me for Halloween fiasco. Suspiciously sure she is best person in entire world for getting over it. Maybe she has not given up on me. Maybe she just might have seen something that 'wasn't so bad'. I probably should not hold my breath on this point, but during Transfiguration after she mastered the spell, she smiled at me and I did not make any scathing remarks in reply. This was most likely due to the fact she was across the room, but I am not picky about successes.

Have also heard she is no longer being tutored by the Wanker. Got detention in Potions today after hearing this glorious news and promptly forgot about anything else going on, like my cauldron melting. Completely worth it, on both accounts, especially because Sirius set off several loud explosions near the Slytherin common room, allowing my escape and we had a chance to restock our low supplies in Hogsmeade as well as replacing my cauldron.

Have also mysteriously found sugar quills in my Honeyduke's bundle. Do not remember buying these. Must have though. Sirius did our tallies to make sure we left the right amount. Curious as I am not too fond of sugar quills, but had been thinking about Lily's smile at the time, and Lily likes sugar quills. Oh. Right then. Suppose that explains that mystery.

**December 10**

Oh my holy harpy today was long. So I had been carrying around the sugar quills in my bag this morning. I had figured I'd offer them up to Remus in History so I could get on his good side and copy his notes later instead of writing my own. My hands, the traitors, apparently had other plans.

Care was a practical session today, so all of our bags were deposited in one giant heap. I had to go see McGonagall about Quidditch practices after class, so split with the boys before grabbing my bag when I noticed it. Low and behold, her bag was not three feet from mine.

I was just closing her sack when she walked up.

L: What are you doing?

T: Eh, well, the thing about that is…

S: Oh come off it, Evans. I haven't put anything in your bag since third year. I dropped my watch and it got snagged on the corner of your sack.

L: I wasn't _accu_sing you. You don't have to be so defensive all the time.

T: I'm defensive because I'm guilty. Stop acting so defensive!

S: Well, I'll stop acting defensive when you stop second guessing my motives all the time! You don't have to act like a professor towards me. I _am_ Head Boy.

L, coldly: So I noticed. Speaking of which, McGonagall has requested we do our patrols together tonight, as you, apparently, have a tendency to not actually patrol at all.

T, scathingly: I patrolled the kitchens!

S: I patrolled the kitchens.

T: Um…you weren't actually supposed to _say_ that. Idiot.

L giggled. I turned bright red. I made her giggle.

L smiled: So I'll meet you in the common room at eight, then?

T, smoothly: I'll meet you any time you want.

S, annoyed: Listen, I'm on my way to meet McGonagall right now. I'm sure I can manage to get out of it, so don't worry about it.

L: Oh.

At this point I imagined Lily was disappointed, not relieved. It didn't really matter, I suppose. We said a vague goodbye and I went to see McGonagall at which point I was informed that I could _not_ get out of it. I had to find Lily and inform her. She was in the great hall at dinner. She smiled wide when she saw me. Her friend looked at what she was smiling at before rolling her eyes at me. Curious. I walked up next to her, hands shoved in my pockets, trying to look as bored as possible.

S: Listen, can I talk to you for a second?

L: Of course.

She stood up. I had not meant alone, but as she was already walking away, I followed. She stopped outside the Great Hall and turned to me expectantly. She had that soft look on her face that she sometimes gets during the first snows of the season, like she's looking at something infinitely marvelous. I looked around, confused.

L: Thank you. It was very kind of you.

T: She got the quills! She knows they're from me! She does not think it was the Wanker! This is very good!

S: Listen, I don't know what you're on about, I just wanted to tell you I couldn't get off the hook with McGonagall tonight, so if eight is still fine, I guess I'll see you then.

I turned to leave, sure my mouth was going to ruin everything if I stood in her presence too long.

L: But I know it was you! No one else could have…

S: No one else could have what, Evans?

L: You put sugar quills in my bag after Care class, when you were fiddling with my bag. Why are you denying it? It was a nice thing to do.

T: Stop frowning at me. Please. God, you're beautiful. Please look at me like I'm the first snow again. I'll do anything.

S: Don't flatter yourself Evans. Why would I do something like that? More than likely it was that Ravenclaw bloke you're dating.

L: I'm not dating Emerson.

T: Say that again.

S: Fine, the bloke you're fooling around in broom closets with then.

L, getting angry: I am most certainly _not_ fooling around in broom closets with him, or anyone for that matter! Is that what you thought?

I shrugged. I said: That's what I heard.

L: Well you either weren't listening very well or the person you heard it from was vastly misinformed.

T: Again!

S, in bored tone: Well discussing your love life has been enlightening, but if you don't mind, I'd like to eat some dinner before we do rounds.

I left before she could realize I had not answered her question. I was rather proud of how this turned out. I had forgotten I would be meeting her later. I had forgotten just how long patrols were. I had forgotten that she has the most persuasive ways of making me do whatever she wants. Like breathing.

We had been walking side by side without saying a word to each other for over an hour. I'd like to believe it was as painful for her as it was for me.

L: If you didn't want to talk about it, you shouldn't have brought it up.

T: Damn it. She's good.

S: I wasn't under the impression I had said anything at all.

L: You know I meant earlier. You didn't have to be so rude.

T: You're right. I was just happy beyond reason you were not in broom cupboards with anyone who is not me…not that you have been in one with me, but the possibility is still there.

S: Don't lecture me, Evans. I get enough of that already from anyone my senior. I don't need it from you too.

L: You're only a day older than I am. It's nothing to brag about.

L looked shocked she had said this. I was shocked she had said this. She knew when my birthday was. It is in August, which means I have no idea how she knew this.

We came to the corner at the end of the fourth floor corridor. Lily dropped something and bent down to pick it up. I walked a few steps before realizing this. I stopped to wait.

"Potter!"

I looked up from her, startled to see the Wanker storming in my direction.

I did not want to announce his name in hopes that if Lily did not know who it was she could not walk around the corner and throw herself into his arms just to spite me.

"What are you doing out after hours? I'm on rounds tonight. I'll have to deduct points if you don't have a pass." Don't I sound like he's my best friend? See, I can play nice…if it serves the purpose of making me look like I'm not at all jealous, not that I would have anything to be jealous of in the first place.

"Did you ask Evans out tonight at dinner?" he demanded angrily. I had not expected this. I waited a minute. Lily did not say a word. He did not know she was standing just around the corner. I grinned at this turn of events. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at him pityingly.

"What's it to you?" I asked defensively.

"Leave her alone, Potter," he threatened, his hand gripping his wand.

"Or what, you'll hex me? Listen, Evans is a big girl and she can take care of herself."

"You're not listening," he said, his wand removed from his cloak and hanging at his side, ready to be raised. "Evans isn't your concern."

"Evans is my co-head. Of course she's my concern, and as I hear it, that makes her more of my concern than it does yours, seeing as you're her what? Not her boyfriend, certainly, and as I hear it, you aren't tutoring her anymore as well."

He looked quite angry. "She and I are friends, and as her friend, I'm telling you to bugger off and leave her alone!"

"You're not her keeper. Evans can choose the company she keeps just as well as the next person, and if she chooses to spend time with me over you, then it's her decision, not yours."

"You can't speak for her!"

Lily stepped around the corner and stood next to me. "Neither can you."

He floundered like a fish. She told him in no uncertain terms that they were no longer friends and asked him to leave. If I had not loved her before now, I would have then. She was amazing. I tried not to do a jig as I silently watched him walk away.

L, in quiet voice: I didn't tell you he wasn't tutoring me anymore.

S: Another rumor.

L: You did put those sugar quills in my bag, didn't you?

S: No.

T: Liar, liar, liar. She knows you're lying. Stop lying, liar.

L: Thank you for standing up for me back there.

S: You're my co-head, and I've always thought he's a bit of a wanker.

She smiled. I love her smiles. They are the prettiest smiles in the world. She never smiles with just her lips. She smiles with her eyes. I love her mouth, but I love her eyes more. Sometimes, when she looks at me, it's like she knows I don't mean a word of what I'm saying.

At the very least, I have taken a vindictive pleasure in the fact she has been glaring hatefully at the Wanker because she thinks he has spread those broom closet rumors about them. I would feel bad, but all is fair in love and war, and Merlin knows by now that our relationship is quite a mix of both.

**December 14**

Dream last night was brutal. Need to stop thinking about her mouth right before bed. I turned Gryffindor red at the sight of her eating porridge this morning. If she only knew what the sight of her lips did to me. I'm glad she has no idea. I rather cherish living.

Got into a spat with her anyway to relieve some pressure. It was either that or tackle her, and while I do fantasize exorbitantly, rarely is it anything I'd ever want to do with her in public. She and I both would have that in common, I think.

Public displays of affection are always horribly disgusting to watch, with the possible exception of holding hands, demure snuggling, and top-of-the-head kisses. In private, however, I think your sole purpose should be to make the other person feel cared for. If Lily were with me, I'd spend every minute trying to make her feel beautiful.

Instead of idiotically telling her that she was a show-off in Charms.

In my best defense, she caught me staring at her (took her long enough) and I didn't have a better excuse prepared as to why.

**December 18**

Lily, I have decided, needs to stop being so beautiful. The last night before holiday break, and I have detention tonight with McGonagall because I was daydreaming (and by daydreaming I mean staring at Lily too much) today in lessons. While technically this was not my fault, I did not think McGonagall would quite see my side of it.

**…**

"Come _on_ Prongs!" Sirius Black called.

James Potter hastily shoved his quill and ink in his bag before bundling up his books and making his way through the aisle to the door. A small leather bound book fell to the floor as he bumped into a chair.

Lily Evans, following his exit, bent down to pick up the book. She stood up and began to call out his name, but he was gone. She looked back down at the book in her hand and opened the cover.

Her eyes widened as she read:

**_Some_**_ people have **yet** to grasp the fact –even after seven years of exposure mind you—that what I say and what I mean are completely different things…_

**_…_**

**An:** I am evil. I know. Reviews are appreciated and hoarded.


	4. chapter 4

James searched ardently through his belongings, sure it had to be somewhere. "Sirius!" he called in exasperation after he had reached the bottom. "Have you seen my journal?"

Sirius's head slipped in through his door, a bite of Christmas turkey dangling from his mouth to examine a flustered looking James with a pair of pants dangling down his hair. He snorted at the sight. "No mate. You probably left it at school. Last time I saw it was at the end of Transfiguration after you got in trouble."

James knew that Sirius would not lie to him, especially about something like this, and so he nodded tiredly.

"Why don't you just write on some spare parchment and insert it later when we get back?" Sirius asked through another biteful of food.

James shook his head. "S'Alright. I just could have _sworn_ I had brought it with me. I had it with all my books and tossed them in my trunk. I mean, why would I have forgotten it behind?"

"Dunno, but you have to have some of this turkey before I eat it all…"

James sighed and did not think about his journal for the rest of break.

**…**

Lily Evans however, could get nothing else in her mind. Her mother kept inquiring as to why she was so distracted, and her father kept insisting she needed more sleep, that she was working too hard at school. Lily did not know how to explain that it was in fact the result of one tiny little book that completely changed her entire existence.

Every time she would decide what she was to _do_ about the book, she became unsure. She could not just casually hand it back to him – they would never be able to look each other in the eye ever again. She would never be able to pretend she had never actually read what she had read.

And what if it was all some wild horrible prank? An elaborate one to make her confess her feelings for him, only to have him laugh in her face. Perhaps he suspected her feelings. Perhaps she had been too obvious. She would not have thought that James Potter would be less dense about her desire for him than her own friends and dorm mates, but perhaps he was? And then where did that leave her?

In times of distress over the subject, she would open up the little book and re-read her favorite passages. Of course the thought of keeping it had crossed her mind more than once. Especially after reading passages like '_If Lily were with me, I'd spend every minute trying to make her feel beautiful.'_

It was when she was casually reading through the passages again that inspiration struck. '_I wish, _she read, '_Lily Evans, for just one second could look at me and feel as deeply and passionately the desire I feel for her. Maybe then she'd look back when she walks away to make sure I'm watching her go and silently begging her to stop.'_

She could test him. If it was true, if any of it was true, then they would argue again soon. He would be thinking about her, maybe he would be thinking about her _like that_ (she flushed at the thought), and he would not have his journal to confide in. He would get in an argument when he saw her. On the first day back at classes, on the night they returned, maybe even on the train ride back to school. They would argue, she would walk away, and then, she would look back at him, and if he was still watching her, then she would know.

Then she would know he loved her.

She did not allow herself to think beyond that moment. Either conclusion was too much to bare, and it was with great desperation that she waited for holiday to finish.

**…**

He leaned back in his seat as he wrote on a spare bit of parchment and closed his eyes, picturing her face. He would see her again today. He had half a year left with her. He grinned. That wasn't true. They would go into Auror training together. He would still see her every day. It wouldn't be as casual an environment, but he would still see her. See her as she grew older, see as she fought alongside him, see her become a mother to someone else's children. He shook the gut wrenching thought from his mind.

He would tell her. He had to tell her. Even if she laughed in his face and didn't believe him. She deserved to know. He would do it now, right now. He tried not to think about how many times before he had decided to tell her and lost his nerve or thought too deeply about it. He strode off to find her.

**…**

She was just entering the Head compartment when she glanced to the side and noticed him pointedly walking towards her. She gasped slightly. It was hard to pinpoint the exact location of where he made her heart hurt with how attractive he could be, but it seemed to be the bottom right side that always skipped a beat.

"Evans, I need to talk to you," he said sharply as though he was looking through her at some distant point.

For a moment, she could not stop blushing, could not stop staring at him, could not stop thinking about his words echoing around her head. _Brilliant, perfect, deepest desire_

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, his voice softened slightly as his eyes focused on her, scanning her flushed face and tired eyes. His eyebrows furrowed together in concern. More concern than someone who typically detested her should have.

"I'm…I'm fine," she said, coming back to herself.

"You're sure?" he asked, and his hands directed her into the compartment and into a seat. He was so kind. Too kind. It was a joke. It was all a joke.

"Yes," she snapped bitterly.

"Well good," he snapped back, just as sharply. "Because heaven forbid you could just admit that you're ill."

He transfigured an ice pack from a piece of parchment and began to place it on her forehead.

She shoved it away, glaring. "I'm _not_ ill."

He rolled his eyes. "Then why are you flushed and more irritable than usual?"

"Because I'm looking at you!" she bit out. She felt guilty because it was true, and she had said it like it was true, but it wasn't the whole truth, and she watched his face close in front of her.

His ice pack dropped to the floor. "Fine," he said. "I get it. I'll leave."

_No, no, no! _she thought. **_He_**_ couldn't be the one to leave!_ "Wait! I'm sorry. I didn't mean that like it sounded."

He paused, his hand gripping the door jam until his knuckles were white.

"What were you going to say?" she asked quietly.

He took a deep breath, but then let it out with a choked laugh. "Nothing important," he said. He began to walk away.

"Tell me," she demanded. "What you were going to say."

He turned back to her and for the first time, she noticed something strange. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the words seemed to catch in his throat, and instead, other words rushed forth, but she didn't hear them. She had seen this before, so many times, but she never understood what it meant until now.

She blinked at him. Judging by his expression, he was waiting for a cutting reply.

Before she knew what was happening, words she did not know were inside of her were tumbling out. "I'm extremely sensitive behind my knees," she announced. She was not sure whether he was more shocked than she was, but she was rather sure it was close.

If she had thought it was a prank before, she was no longer harboring that fear. He had gone white as a ghost and then as red as a cherry, his eyes terrified, before his voice whispered out a cracked, "What?"

She did not know what to say. She did not, of course, mean to say that at all. It had just come out. She expected him to start asking how she had gotten hold of the book, how much she had read, what she thought about what she had read. She hung her head.

"Well," he said in a dull tone of voice. "I guess I don't have to say anything after all. I'm going to go jump out a window, if you'll excuse me."

"Did you mean it?" she asked, suddenly doubtful.

He turned back at her sharply and bitterly. "Of course I _meant_ it, I just never _meant_ for you to _read _it."

He turned away again. "I have a picture of you. I look at it every night before bed, and I think that tomorrow I'll get you to like me. Tomorrow you won't snap at me, you won't see me as not good enough. Tomorrow, I think, I'll get you to smile at me like you do in that picture. Tomorrow I'll let you know I love you, and tomorrow you'll love me back. But tomorrow has been almost seven years, and I'm so tired of waiting for tomorrow. So I think I'm going to tell you today."

She looked up at him, but he was no longer standing in the doorway. He was standing in front of her, and as their eyes met, he knelt down and his hands brushed softly across her face to hold her head.

"Then tell me," he said desperately and closed his eyes.

"I love you," she said, and he swallowed hard.

"Say it again," he said, and surprised, she did. "Again," he demanded.

She smiled, and coyly replied, "I won't. Not until you say it too."

He opened his eyes, and smiled at her with every fiber of his being and she melted under that familiar look that she had been so desperate for for so long. "Well I love you of course," he said plainly.

"Oh really?" she said in mock surprise. "I wasn't aware of that."

"Well now you know," he whispered to her, then grinned his lovely warm grin that she fell in love with. "You little witch."

She grinned back. "Coming from you, Mister Potter, I'll take that as a compliment."

His eyes twinkled. "Let me kiss you," he whispered.

"Yes," she whispered back, and closed her eyes as his face moved towards hers. His breath trembled as he held back. "_James,_" she begged, and he gave a soft joyous gasp before pressing his lips to hers.

When he pulled back to let her breathe many minutes later, he could not help himself. "Again," he said, and she smiled.

**…**

**January 4**

Lily thinks I do not need this anymore, but I know better. I think she is afraid I will write something bad about her, but I don't think she realizes that that was the point of this journal to begin with. It's about the bad not really being bad, but good. Really good. Like red lips giving you a 'come here' smile good. Her lips will be the death of me.

After several hours of the most pleasant snogging one could possibly imagine, Sirius interrupted us on accident. The entire school now knows, which was rather disappointing as I had hoped to have many more of these sessions under the pretense of patrolling, but after the raised eyebrow I got from McGonagall when we walked into the Great Hall holding hands, I highly doubt this will be possible.

At least I still have my invisibility cloak.

Lily and I still have spats (two so far this morning alone, though one I started to get her kicked out of the library so I could kiss her). I still have trouble saying what I mean, but we are working on it. She is incredibly patient and wonderful about it.

If you have stolen this again, you stealer, then I'll have you know that this morning when I said your wrist movement was atrocious in Transfiguration, I really meant your hair is extremely pretty today. You should wear it down more often. If this was not implied when I skived off Divination and pulled you out of Arithmancy under the subterfuge of Head business, only to pull you into the fourth floor broom cupboard to snog with you and touch your hair, then I will forgive you stealing this again.

I really did mean it when I said I had been waiting seven years to do that.

Maybe I really don't need this journal anymore. You know I love you now. And if you ever doubt that, then re-read through these pages, because they're honest and open and true, and nothing will ever change them. This journal is evidence, incriminating evidence, that I am James Harold Potter III, I love Lily Evans, and I am terrible at hiding it.

**…**

**AN:** It's done:does little happy dance: I seriously can't believe all the reviews I've gotten for this. I 3 all of the reviews I have received. You guys are awesome.


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